A scene is coming back to my mind unbidden. A couple I watched when I was walking by the Citadel in Halifax during a warm season. I was chatting with my youngest and enjoying a summer walk.

I saw an older woman getting up from the grass while her husband watched. The grass was on a rise and she struggled to her knees. It was not a graceful moment and she worked hard to get off her bum, on to her knees and then stabilize on a steep hill. Once she was up she started to put on her sweater and dust the leaves off of it.

As this was happening her husband just stood there like a pole. As my child and I spoke of something else, I kept her in the corner of my eye. I watched and I thought about marriage.

I pictured them forty years younger. I think they were both blonde, slim and athletic. I imagined him reaching his hand out or helping her dust off the leaves as they chatted and laughed.

But now so many years later, it was apparently every man for himself. He just stood and watched. There was no laughter, no hand reaching out, no affection.

His slumped standing position was full of exhaustion and irritation. I imagine that he had decided that sitting in the grass was a bad idea. He had a stout way of standing, as if he thought he was right about something.

He may have said his opinion out loud, or may have kept it to himself, too tired to tell her. But in no way was he going to help her up. And married that long, she already knew what he was thinking.

It was her foolishness, this idea of sitting on the grass. I wondered if he was thinking that. Maybe she was thinking it too.

As she rose up and put on her sweater she smiled and pretended it was alright. She knew him well, she knew she was on her own at that moment. She knew the night, the trip, the next year, depended on her being a good sport.

I almost stepped up to offer her a hand, to offer my sisterhood. I almost took him to task. I don’t think she would have minded.

If they had been young he would have lifted her up with his spirits and his hand. A young man will lift you up because he wants to lie you down.

I know her marriage was full of love. I am sure it was. Many moments of kindness and generosity. There was love, certainly, still. But this was also a clear sign: I’m tired of caring for you.

I want to see men reaching out their hands to lift their women up. I want to see that.